Sky Daggers

Not a blown up rocket, nor a jet trail, just an accreting icicle from the carport roof, growing longer with each accumulation of water freezing along it, giving it that bumpy appearance.

This next icicle is masquerading as a tree trunk!

These 3 icicles look ghoul-like to me!

Pine Blast

 

Wind gusts of forty

Strip trees of needles and cones -

Snowy garnishes!

An Exacting Sensitivity

Emily Dickinson's deeply sensitive poetry always wrenches my gut. How exacting and perfect is this way of expressing the value of her life - it's not the length of life that counts, but what you do with the time you have: 

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

(If I can stop one heart from breaking - Emily Dickinson)

If you can show compassion for any other living creature, your life will have been worthwhile.

This other "observation" of hers always catches my breath:

Hope is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

Icy Bubbles

 Mercurial ice -

Bubbles that cling and transform:

Shape-shifting patterns.